Bereft

by Robert Frost

　　

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Where had I heard this wind beforeChange like this to a deeper roar?What would it take my standing there for,Holding open a restive door,Looking down hill to a frothy shore?Summer was past and the day was past.Sombre clouds in the west were massed.Out on the porch's sagging floor,Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,Blindly striking at my knee and missed.Something sinister in the toneTold me my secret my be known:Word I was in the house aloneSomehow must have gotten abroad,Word I was in my life alone,Word I had no one left but God.

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